This is how I see things
by keriilurve
Summary: In his painting, he paints not everything he sees, but what he wishes he saw. And, one day, what he hopes he'll make happen. oneshot.


**A/N: Angelo was the first bachelor in Harvest Moon: Grand Bazaar that I had interest in marrying. Unfortunately, or fortunately, Ivan stole my heart half way through and now I see Angelo as the perfect best friend to my Anita. Anyway, I wanted to do a quick, sweet, oneshot from his perspective. I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harvest Moon or any of it's characters or settings**

"What are you painting?" her voice chirped behind him as his eyes were fixed on the blotchy canvas in front of him. The blank paper, set upon an easel before him, was now curving with bright colours and swirling with feeling as his paint brush swept across the picture.

"The landscape," Angelo blankly replied, too engrossed in his work of art to glance up at Anita behind him and be distracted by her friendly smile and glowing face. Squinting his eyes, he peered into his painting, brushing his utensil of art ever so slightly to fill in the clouds with a soft grey for shadow, and letting his lips curve up slightly in contentment.

Silence followed for a few seconds as her head popped beside his, gazing down in wonder and, perhaps, confusion, at this new painting he'd indulged himself on. "That's not the landscape," she perked up her voice, furrowing her brow and tilting her head a little, blonde hair falling over her shoulders.

True, it wasn't the landscape that the two were in front of. The real landscape was bustling with trees, glinting and whistling in the breeze, and grass twisted up along paths like vines. Flowers bloomed in bunches, framing the corner of each turn in the landscape, bright yellows and blues and pinks and reds. And a waterfall in the centre, flowing, twirling, like little fairies, down into a silvery pool in the centre of everything.

But, on Angelo's canvas, it was different. A little cottage was snuggled in between the trees, orange painted roof and a welcome, open door. The grass was golder and brighter, the paths, now not in straight, diagonals, but waving in curves. Flowers were more like a carpet now then just a sprinkling of pixie dust. Angelo's figure stood, happily and proud, in his orange, checked cap, in front of that little cottage, smiling widely to the sky. And the waterfall now took on the form of rushing, blue steps, climbing up towards the fluffy clouds, almost as if to heaven.

"True," Angelo tapped the end of his paintbrush at the side of his mouth, studying his own creation. "But this is how I want it to be, like a dream."

"Like wishes?" Anita blinked and Angelo turned his head for the first time to catch a glance at the woman who was beside him. Her blonde, golden hair hid under a fitting, lilac hat and her eyes glimmered an interesting shade of purple, and that smile was on her lips. The smile she had on with everyone – just because she was so contagiously welcoming.

"Yeah," He nodded, turning back to his canvas and smiling in agreement. "Kind of like a wish."

She leaned in further then, admiring his work, merging with different, contrasting and beautiful colours, and peered at a tiny spot on the painting. The tiniest spot but the biggest space to fill.

"Why is there a blank bit there? You haven't painted there yet?" She pointed to a white spot on the picture next to Angelo's figure, where the canvas hadn't met paint yet. It was shaped in the silhouette of a human body, beautiful and curvy in it's own right. But Angelo knew there was something missing there, as it was, after all, his dream landscape. But he'd left it blank for a reason.

"Someone is supposed to fit there," he smiled, gleaming his eyes towards her and gently adjusting his hat so it didn't fall over his face.

Anita blinked, turning to look at him and cocked her head, "Who?" She looked interested and bewildered, curious as to what his answer might be.

Raising his eyebrows in an expectant way, Angelo just nodded, letting his lips smile as he simply said, "I don't know."

And he gently picked up his canvas, stretching his arms out in front of him, to get a proper look at his almost finished work. He seemed pleased with himself as turned, once again, to the friendly farmer at his side and added, "I haven't met her yet."

And with that, he nodded his goodbye to Anita, picking up his painting and easel, and sauntered home with a smile on his face, ready to start on creating his new landscape tomorrow. For real.


End file.
